


Where's the Faith?

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:22:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: “C’mon, Spock. It’ll work.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceruleansky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleansky/gifts).



> Written for Sky, for her prompt: Kirk/Spock, established relationship, especially if Spock gets to spend time going, "WTF, KIRK?" because his boyfriend/husband is doing crazy stupid shit again.

“C’mon, Spock. It’ll work.”

Spock took a moment to count slowly from one to ten, then replied, “Yes, you have said this. That does not change the fact that your odds are asymptotically approaching zero.”

Jim grinned, that cocky, top-of-the-world grin. “C’mon. Where’s the faith?”

“Dead with all the rest of the faith, as this is your third attempt at this impossible maneuver,” Spock said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Which means I’ve learned from experience. I won’t make the same mistakes again. Plus, this time, I’ve got a totally foolproof plan.” Kirk grinned again, spinning the ratchet in his hand a few times.

Spock looked up at the incredibly small crawlspace that led to the crack in their sump pump piping. “Jim, you cannot physically fit in that space. This is a scientific fact.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “I know that, Spock. I’m not going to. That’s why I’m going to attach the ratchet to this fire poker and just sit on the workbench.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Unless you weld the two of them together, you will be unable to get the correct torque.”

“Nah, that’s what duct tape is for.” Jim pulled a roll out of one of the workbench drawers and grinned. 

Spock tried his last resort. “Jim, why do we not just update the house? I had not even believed a sump pump still operated. They were banned as structurally unsound.”

Jim shrugged. “No one around here wanted to change. You’re underestimating the sheer stubbornness of Iowa farmers.”

“Apparently so.”

“It’s part of the house’s charm. What would be the fun if everything worked perfectly? We’d be bored in a week without something new to fix.” Jim smiled again, this time less cocky and more endearing.

Spock refrained from reminding Jim that they barely spent a month at the house at a time.

Jim’s promotion to Admiral had him kept to San Francisco, as had Spock’s own position as a Starfleet diplomat liaison. The house would be far less likely to fall apart if they updated it, and then hired someone to check on it at regular intervals. 

Jim’s position was that it was their house, and they ought to take care of it themselves. Spock had reminded him, more than once, that they also owned a perfectly up-to-date home in San Francisco, of which at no point had Jim declaimed being bored, in spite of it running adequately.

“All right, here we go.” Jim had finished duct taping the ratchet to the fire poker he had taken from upstairs, and climbed onto the bench, only a small amount less gracefully than he might have twenty years ago. 

As Jim reached to use the ratchet to loosen the pipe so that he could remove it and repair the crack, Spock calmly withdrew his communicator from his pocket, and pulled up the contact information for the local medical services. 

It had been a need the after the first two attempts, and Spock was resigned to be better prepared, this time. He was sure he would be even better prepared, next time.

Or, perhaps, while Jim was in the medical center, Spock would simply call someone to come and update the system. Jim would be a bit put out, but that was nothing Spock had not weathered in the past.

He had just found the number to a contracting service that could perform the task when Jim let out a loud, “Oh, fuck,” and dropped the poker.

Spock flipped back to the medical center on his comm, and opened the communication channel while his husband glared at him, as if daring him to say, “I told you so.”

Which Spock would, with no small amusement, as soon as the doctors proclaimed no permanent damage to Jim’s shoulder.


End file.
